Starbucks
by Noblessex3
Summary: After a house visit from none other than S.H.I.E.L.D. Director Fury, a 25-year-old artist from Detroit has to deal with a lot of changes in his already somewhat crazy life. Will he become a valuable S.H.I.E.L.D. asset or will he end up making coffee for all of them? -First fanfiction ever, please be gentle! Reviews are loved and cherished. So are Reviewers.
1. The start of it all

**I do not know where I'm going with this, so please bear in mind that this is my first fanfiction ever published! I'm kind of excited!**

**exclaimer! I own nothing but my own OC! **

"wait, what do you mean I'm going to work with the avengers, Fury? The real fucking avengers?! you've got to be shitting me! I'm an artist, I don't do superhero stuff, for gods sake I work at Starbucks in my spare time! Yes, yes I know that owning a few Starbucks shops and working there isn't the same thing." I sighed, looking around my small one bedroom apartment placed in the slum of Detroit. My eyes sought out the robot i had built a few days ago by an accident when trying to build an Iron Man statue. I had named it Tony just for the hell of it. And right now Tony was sweeping sawdust off my linoleum floor. I must admit I get a small sadistic pleasure out of ordering my own personal Iron Man around.

"Fury you can't really expect me to want to work with the suckers that grounded my penthouse apartment, right? besides I'm no superhero! I'm just an artist who makes great coffee! The only thing I'd be able to help those idiots with is decorating their apartments! and I still haven't forgiven them for ruining mine under that crazy alien attack while I was at the Copenhagen fashion week! No Fury, for fuck sake I'm not a clothing designer, I got invited by an old friend of mine from Denmark. God! Just because you don't have friends..."

I listened to Furys ramblings for another two minutes before just putting my phone on the kitchen counter and start making myself some coffee.

Sometimes I just really miss Denmark, mostly because there's no Fury or paparazzi stalking you everywhere you go. I was just as much of a nobody as everyone else in that country... I really should visit more.. Mum would be happy if I did. But then again if I visit mum, I'm also visiting dad, which I'm soooo not up for. Why my mum hasn't gotten a divorce yet, I'll never understand. We both know he's been beating both of us for as long as I can remember.

I take my newly finished espresso and take a sip, sighing happily. God I love coffee. I glance down at my phone with a frown before reaching out and putting it on speakers.

"For f***s sake Starbucks answer my f***ing questions!" I cringe at the nickname and decide just to end the call. Tapping the red button twice before turning my attention to my coffee again.

"no way in hell I'm working with a bunch of weirdos on steroids." I mumble to the empty apartment, safe for all the artistic stuff laying all around and my little Tony-helper.

I wonder what the real Tony would say about me having a robot-him doing all my dirty work. probably some shit about me craving his sorry ass. psschh! he couldn't be more wrong! what the hell could I want from him? i got my own money, I got my artist crap going on in my own private gallery, which he has visited more than once, and I can apparently build my own f***ing robots, Tony over there by my paintings are proof of it!

Tony.. Paintings... oh f***. "Tony! Tony, babe get away from those, no nononononono don't pick that up!" I yelled running towards him. Thank god the apartments so small. I pull the painting out of his robot hands to inspect the damage. "Well this isn'..." I froze, staring at the hole in the left corner of the canvas. a thumb formed hole, clearly made by my Tony. I scream. I'm not proud of it, but that's what I do.

I can hear running footsteps in the hall outside my apartment and soon after I hear loud knocking on my door, followed by yelling about my health and for someone to knock the door in. And I'm just staring at my painting, not listening to the voices, not really hearing the door get busted in as I'm screaming of the terror that has happened to my beloved painting.

The very same painting that kept me up for 2 days straight, running on nothing but strong coffee, painting that masterpiece.

Suddenly I hear Nick Furys voice and i feel a calloused hand grabbing my upper arm roughly. Furys voice is telling me to snap out of it and I do just that. I shut up and look around at all the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents now filling up space in my ridiculously small apartment, each one of them pointing a gun at my Tony robot that's lying on the floor with 4 agents holding it down.

"what are they doing to my robot?" I ask hoarsely. How long was I screaming, really? I sound like a 90 years old chain smoker, not a 25-year-old artist who doesn't even drink alcohol.

"why do you have an Iron Man robot, Starbucks?" Fury asked me with that always present serious look. I cringe at the nickname, hating it completely.

"I was trying to make an Iron Man sculpture and somehow I got it to come to life and start doing housework. It's usually pretty good at it, but of course there's no rule without exceptions. He just destroyed the piece I've been working on for gods know how long." I glanced down at the painting in my hands and swallow a knot forming in my throat, making my Adams apple move.

"and why were you making said sculpture?" Fury asked, clearly annoyed by the fact that he and his team moving to action on something as trivial as a broken painting. I glare at him before answering. "I got an anonymous request for it to be seen in my gallery. But I decided against putting it out for public show after seeing it move around. I simply decided that it would do much better by cleaning out my apartment. Which is does, so if you're thinking about taking it with you for someone to work on, I will make sure that no one from S.H.I.E.L.D. will ever get coffee at Starbucks again."

I have a feeling that I'm maybe getting a bit pissed. But then again, this isn't the first time Furys stolen something that was mine. Like my old coffee machine, which he claimed could be used as a weapon. As if. I bet it's standing in his office right now, waiting for him to tell it what kind of coffee to make him. That bastard. Good thing I managed to make enough of them to be able to stock all my stores in NY with them, before he stole the prototype.

Why do people say that making something like that makes me a genius? I'm not a genius, not at all, I'm just lucky that I sometimes make something useful when i play around with mechanics. I'm a MICA graduate for f***s sake. I don't know shit about Engineering! I just play around until it works!

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying to fight away the headache i feel coming up. "look Fury, can't you and your little henchmen just get out of my apartment? I'm not going to help you with the avengers, I'm not going to be useful for that task anyways, so why do you keep bothering me? I just wanna live my life in peace with my small hobbies, without having the government on my ass!"

"After seeing your Iron Man robot, I'm afraid leaving you alone is no longer an option. Having someone like you walking around freely, with your engineering abilities, is out of the question. Tell the agents what to pack, because we're taking you to the helicarrier immediately."

I briefly think about giving Fury a bloody nose, but in the end decide against the strong wish. I would rather not get dragged out of here in handcuffs, possibly more or less beaten up.

I sigh deeply and look over at the agents, who's still pointing their guns at Tony. "The robot's harmless, stop pointing those things at him and start packing my paintings and the equipment I need for painting. After you're done with that you can pack my clothes and all the stuff in the bathroom.

I send them a stern look before i let myself fall into my couch, letting out a breath i didn't know I was holding.

I close my eyes and decide to forget the feeling of Furys eye on me. I've always thought he looks creepy as hell with that eyepatch.


	2. The beginning of the adventure

**You get a new chapter so soon! aren't you just happy?! I sure as hell didn't think i'd be able to give ya'll a new chapter this soon, but what do ya know? here it is! I don't know how i feel about it though. I kinda feel like i rushed through some things, but i really didn't know what to write at some of those places. Goddammit i hate my brain for giving me ideas that doesn't fit with how the story is at the point i'm at.**

***cough cough* anywaaaays, i hope you enjoy it and that you find it as funny to read as i thought it would be when i wrote it. **

**Disclaimer: i own nothing but my own brain and my character! All recognizable characters belong to marvel!**

So after a dreadful flight, consisting of me screaming bloody murder and eventually getting knocked out by Fury because i wouldn't stop the needless screaming, I'm now in a S.H.I.E.L.D. meeting room with most of the avengers. Except Tony Stark and may I say it? thank god for his absence.

They all seem pretty nice and things were going pretty well until the bastard in a shining armor decided to show up. Yup Iron Man. Tony F***ing Stark. I seem to have surprised him with my being here if his not so smug and rather pale face is anything to go by. "Hello f***er." I say with a sweet little sing-song voice, very unlike myself, but I figure, what the hell not? it's not like he's a stranger or anything.

In fact I know the famous playboy pretty f***ing well. At least physically. Emotionally hmmm, not so much. Let's just say he's crawled out of my bed in the morning more than once.

"Popeye is this some kind of a sick joke?" Tony said, completely ignoring my warm welcome like the annoying bastard he is. "how the hell did you find Artie over here and what the f*** is he doing here?"

"oh, you have a problem with me being here. Well too f***ing bad, my sick little hit and run." I stood up and started walking towards him with a death glare and my fists were more than ready to give him a good beat up. "because you see the patchy bastard over there decided that I'd be a valuable f***ing asset!" I swung out with my fist and hit Tony in the nose with a nice crunchy sound. F*** my hand hurts!

I felt strong hands grab me and pull me away from Tony before I could get another swing at that bastard. I sneered and started kicking at Stark, but unfortunately i was pulled away far enough to stop me from doing him any other damage.

"What the f*** has happened between the two of you?!" Fury yelled at us furiously. Well at least he lives up to the name i silently think to myself and struggle for a few seconds to keep a chuckle in.

I take a deep breath to make sure that I'm ready to talk before answering Fury. "What happened is that every time the fuckster over there gets drunk and decides to go to a f***ing gay bar, we somehow end up in bed together after having played tennis for a few hours."

I look around at the faces in the room all featuring different looks of surprise and horror. "what? y'all didn't think the legend-f***ing-dary Tony Stark swung both ways? How oblivious are you allowed to be as a superhero? seriously?"

I sigh and pull my arms out of the grip of Thor, who seriously look like he's seen a ghost. I snort and turn to Fury. "Me and the team clearly aren't compatible, so can I go home now? I promise not to make any more robots by mistake." I do a mocking cross in front of my heart before crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Hell, I'll even let you keep the one I already have, I'm sure it'd be a better asset to the team than the f***tard in the doorway, whom needs to move his cute little ass from there before I hit him again." I hear a scoff and shuffling feet behind me. Well at least he ain't as dumb as he looks. But then again, I'm pretty sure it's a crime somewhere to be just that stupid.

I keep my eyes on Fury, waiting for him to say something. "No." Is the only answer i get. "well f*** you too, I'm leaving!" I throw out my arms and start moving towards the door, but Thor gets a hold of me again and pulls me back. I grumble incoherently and cross my arms yet again. I feel Thor put his strong arms over mine, to make sure I don't get away until I'm allowed, but I decide not to think more into that. Who the hell knows what godlike people think anyways.

"Well why not? you'll get my Tony, I'll even let you keep my f***ing coffee machine, which I still haven't forgiven you for stealing from me the last time you visited. It's not like you can use me for anything else here! I'm not a f***ing superhero! i don't have some crazy superpowers! I'm an artist and I know how to make good coffee! That's it! The robot was just something that happened when I was doing a f***ing Iron Man statue in metal! It came to life, big f***ing deal!"

I start to thrash around in an attempt to get out of Thor's crushing hug. "calm down, Starbucks." Nick said, clearly trying to stop me from yelling and clearly using the wrong way to do so.

"Stop calling me f***ing Starbucks! I own a few, I'm not the entire bloody brand! Call me by my name for f***s sake! It's not that hard! Christian Wilhelmsen! Even my artistic name will do! Chris Wilson!"

I feel a hard hit to the back of my head and everything goes black.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I groan and sit up, putting my hand to the back of my head where a splitting pain is currently taking residence. They really need to stop doing that before i end up loosing brain cells or some crazy shit like that. I open my eyes slightly, only to close them immediately afterwards. Damn that lights strong.

I sigh and let myself fall back onto the hard bed I woke up in. "why meeee~?" I ask to the room, I sincerely hope is empty. By what the little cough I hear to the left side of my bed indicates, I'm in no such luck.

I pry my eyes open and look the way the sound came from, only to see the face of the director of this establishment. "you really need to stop hitting me all the time. I'll end up brain-dead by the end of the week if you keep up this pace."

I swear to god this happened, seriously, I swear I heard the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., Nick "one eye" Fury chuckle! Mr. Serious And Scary chuckled like a fucking human! I could have sworn that he was an alien before this. Now, I'm not so sure. "well if you did, I would at least not have Tony Stark even more on my ass than usually."

I scoff at him before sitting up and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. "that's true.. Though you could also just send me back home, you know?" I look at him with a tired, hopeless facial expression. I'm getting pretty tired of all this bullshit already and I haven't even been here for an entire day! Actually I don't know that for sure, I could have been out for days for all I know.

"You know we can't do that Starbucks." I nod and my eyes fall to the floor. "what do you want me to do here? I'm going out on a limb here and say that I don't think you want me here for my artistic abilities." I glance up at Fury who's looking at me, like he's evaluating me for something. I sigh heavily, thinking that he won't tell me.

"you know about the alien attack that happened in New York?" It wasn't a question as much as a statement, but I bobbed my head anyways.

"The leader of this attack, Loki, is serving out his sentence here in the helicarrier, and we need someone to keep an eye on him. Someone that doesn't hold any classified knowledge that he might use to his advantage. And you'll make a small army of your robots as a safety measure for your life. You will be working together with Stark in that aspect, so that your robot might become a bit more useful than to clean the helicarrier."

I listen carefully to him and think about it before nodding. "so I'm basically his nanny, right? That shouldn't be too hard I suppose." I straighten my back and stare Fury into his eye. "But I'm not sure if I can make the robots again. I mean, it was pretty much a coincidence the first time. Not to mention the fact that me working with Tony is in general a horrible idea." I shake my head shortly, while I rise from the bed.

"but sure, as long as I'm allowed to paint and do my hobbies while I babysit the alien, I don't really see a problem." I give him a small smile and start brushing my hands over my clothes. "Am I to start babysitting right away, or should I find Stark and make the robots first?"

"You probably shouldn't leave Stark waiting for too long. God knows that man doesn't know the meaning of patience." I smirk brassily at this and walk over to the door. "That might be right, but try saying that his dick's in danger of getting chewed off, and see how fast he can run." I laugh at Nicks horrified facial expression and walk off to find Tony.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

After a few very exhausting days spent in a lab with Stark and a bunch of robots, I'm finally off to see to my babysitting duties. Did they remember to feed him while I was busy? I shrug at my own thoughts and walk into the cafeteria and directly into the kitchen, ignoring the looks from the agents i walk past. Bitches I know I'm fabulous, no need to drool after me. I quickly search through the obscenely clean kitchen before spotting it. My B-E-A-UTIFUL homemade coffee machine.

I quickly get it up and running, while thinking about what kind of coffee I should introduce our prisoner to. I decide on a caramel mocchiato with vanilla sugar and banana flavored sprinkles, because I feel like he might be a bit of a sweet tooth. That was a lie. I have no idea what to expect, so i simply decided to make something fun. For myself I make a grande black coffee with two espresso shots.

What can I say? I'm exhausted and I need to tend to a dangerous alien for I don't know how long. I probably should figure that out sometime soon. Oh well, could be worse.

I grab the cups and start walking through the halls with the sound of my own footsteps following me all the way. It takes me surprisingly short time to find the place. I look around the place and I'm able to see all my painting stuff and a large stack of different sized canvases.

I also notice a huge round glass cage that instantly reminds me of a fishbowl. Inside is this really tall, muscular, hunk of a man with black hair and big green eyes. "well, hello there handsome!" I grin at him and walk over to the cage, looking up at him. "coffee?" I hold the cup with mocchiato up towards the glass while taking a sip of my own drink.

He looks at me with a hostile yet curious look, seemingly trying to figure me out. "what is this 'coffee' you speak of?" Oh god he's like some sort of literature graduate, isn't he? How am i supposed to deal with that kind of speech pattern?

"oh you don't know coffee? what kind of horrible place did you use to live at? Not important, Anyways it's this warm drink that taste fantastic and it gives you energy! Kinda like an energy drink!" I see the confusion getting even bigger and I mentally sigh. "don't know that either? oh well, I made you some, so if you promise not to probe me or some weird shit like that, I'll give it to you!"

He nods once, but i guess that's the best I'm going to get, so I get one of the robots following me around to open the cages door, so that I can walk in there.

I stand in the door opening and the hunk walk over to me, reaching out for the cup, I quickly give him, because frankly, even if he is just about the hottest thing next to the sun, he's a bit intimidating. But I keep grinning, trying to not scare him off, because god knows we both need a friend in this place. "Bon appetite!" I say as I walk out of the door which quickly close behind me.

I walk over to the brand-spanking new canvases and start ruffling through them to find a canvas the size I want it in. The second one I get my fingers on is the one I choose. "perfect!" I say loudly to my self, ignoring the prickling feeling at my neck, that tells me I'm being watched.

I put the canvas against the wall to stand there while I find an easel and get it up standing next to the box with paint.

After getting everything ready, I pull my shirt over my head, so that I won't accidentally get paint on it. It's a new shirt and one of the few I have that i actually care about enough to not paint in it. I throw it half way across the room and start smearing some blue paint on my hands.

I go into my 'artistic zone' which basically means that I can't stop painting until the paintings finished. I don't know if every artist does this or if it's just me, but it's physically impossible for me to do anything else while painting. Probably because I more or less black out every time I paint.


	3. A bit of bathroom fun

**There's a new chapter! Aren't you just happy?! Have I not done well?! *cough cough* excuse me, it seems my enthusiasm went a little over board. None the less I'm pretty happy with this chapter though it is a bit of a filler. But I thought it was important to get some randomness into this, so the story doesn't just follow a straight line plot wise. I have somehow found out just about which way i want this story to go for the next few chapters, and though Chris' life might turn a bit into a happy-go-lucky life, don't worry i'll be picking him apart soon enough.**

**Anywaaaays~ Enjoy and leave a review telling me what you think! You'll make me one very happy writer by doing so!**

**Disclaimer: Sadly i do not own marvel or any characters you might recognize in this story. I only own my OC and he's a bit of a nutter, so don't steal him if you can't control him. **

I take a step back, away from the easel and the canvas to take a look at my new creation and freeze. You have got to be kidding me. I painted the hot guy in the cell. Well if this isn't awkward. I hear a condescending chuckle from the huge fishbowl behind me. I turn slowly, unsure of what to say, thankfully, and I'm thinking that sarcastically, my mouth decides to make use of the lack of the mouth filter I'm in serious need for and spurts out the first thing that comes to mind. "Like what you see, big guy?" Yeah, I'm not overly fond of that statement either.

The tall, dark-haired man simply smirks knowingly and nods. Smug bastard. "It is very well done, given that it is made by the hands of a monster." Ooooh no he didn't Okay he's officially on my hate-list now. Though he probably should have been earlier, given that he was in charge of the alien idiots that ruined my penthouse in NY, but then again he is pretty hot so that kind of even out the ground a bit. I wave my hand dismissively at him and turn my back to him, while inspecting the canvas closer. It resembles him quite well, actually. "Yeah yeah, I bet you say that to all the guys out there."

I shake my head a bit at the situation I'm in and pick up the canvas, without really knowing where to put it. "Do you want it? I don't really have any use of this. I don't think my little artistic army is interested in buying this." I sigh shortly at the waste of paint and canvas. "it's a shame, really. All that paint just gone to waste." I realize that I've started babbling on about useless stuff and curse myself mumbling for not being able to keep my mouth shut.

I raise my arms over my head and give them a good stretch, forcing out a big yawn whilst. "Well this is boring, do you want something to eat? Or perhaps some more coffee?" I turn my head to look at the cell, where Loki is standing close to the glass somewhere near me, watching me intensely with a curious look that quickly turn into a bored, haughty look when he realize that I'm looking back at him. "Yes peasant, I do believe it is about time I break my fast."

My jaw drops at his words. "You haven't had breakfast yet? But it's like 4 o'clock in the afternoon! Don't they feed you?" I stare at him, my surprise at his words evident on my face. "The servants here have an unrelenting and atrocious manner of forgetting to bring me aliment. I'm starting to believe that this is quite consciously done." I am seriously shocked at this statement and it takes me a few minutes before I get myself gathered. "Well is there something special you want? God knows you deserve something good when you haven't eaten that long." Oh fantastic, now I'm feeling sorry for a super villain. God I hate feeling stuff sometimes. Being emotionless would be so relieving, but of course only megalomaniacs like Stark is allowed to have such privileges. That f***tard.

"I do not want your pity, behemoth!" Loki yells at me. "Bitch, I'm just trying to be nice and helpful here, if you don't want my help, then get your sorry ass some food yourself. Oh wait, I forgot, you can't. You're stuck in your fishbowl, while I'm out here babysitting you, Goldie. So do you want something to eat, and I suggest you answer quickly before I lose my temper and show you how a monster really looks like." I glare at him angrily. No way I'm taking any of his superficial bullshit. Where the f*** is your labrys when you need it? Wait! Was it just me or did he look scared for a second? That shit's funny, he doesn't even know my true form and yet he shows me the slightest telltale of fright. I smirk at him and hear him say. "Anything palatable will do. And bring me more of the beverage you handed me earlier, it was most satisfactory."

I keep my eyes on him for a few seconds more before turning towards the door leading to the hallway, smirking a bit over the small victorious feeling I have running through my veins right about now. He liked my coffee! Well, most normal people do, but he is all but a normal person, so it's cool to know that even aliens like Starbucks. "Now was that so hard? Be a good boy until I'm back, alright?" I sashay my way out the door, waving shortly before going out of sight.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The next few days went on rather smoothly. I got out of bed, I picked up some food for us in the cafeteria along with a new kind of coffee for Loki, I painted until Loki would interrupt me, telling me that he was hungry in his own highly annoying and pretentious way. I got us food and went to a debrief with Agent Hill about Loki's behavior, which I can honestly say I haven't kept an eye on whatsoever. Then I went back to Loki, continued painting and got food for us once again at his command. There wasn't really any complications along the matter of me babysitting him, given that he actually was very easy to deal with once i'd learned to ignore all his snarky comments.

It started out as any other somewhat normal day, I woke up at 6 am to the incredibly annoying S.H.I.E.L.D. morning alarm, which is impossible to turn off by the way, believe me I've tried. I am by far not a morning person. I'm one of those people who prefer to be out partying all night and waking up sometime in the afternoon. If you don't believe me, ask Stark. God knows how many times I've woken up in his bedroom, just to find out that he went out to be an engineering idiot before I even woke up. Yeah Miss Potts have kicked me out quite a few times. Though I don't really blame her, since I would be just as pissed if I was in love with my nonexistent boss, whom kept bringing one-night-stands home for me to deal with. Miss Potts is actually a pretty nice person, with the tolerance of an angel. God knows I can't stand being around Stark when I'm not drunk out of my mind, and I simply cannot see how she does it. He's a cray cray motherf***er in my eyes, but rather fun to be around when you're drunk. Or horny as hell. Both work pretty well around him, and both end up with the same result.

Oh believe me; I'm not complaining about the result, just the man in general. Probably.

Anyways, I got out of bed, cursing wildly at the bloody alarm, stripped off my clothes, went into the small bathroom connected to my room and went into the shower. I did what most people do in there, masturbated, and went out in search of a towel, which I found rather quickly. One of the few perks of being here; there's always clean towels in your bathroom. Not like back in my apartment where I have to run all through the entire apartment in search of a clean towel with an absolute minimum of paint stains. I dried myself off and went in front of the mirror to get myself all nice looking for another day of being productive.

I sigh and look into the mirror, my eyes stray from my wet golden blonde curls in my relatively short hair, down my face to my neatly plucked yet natural looking honey brown eyebrows, my jade colored eyes which stands out and draws the focus away from my slightly too big, but straight nose. I look further and my eyes fall on my thin, pale pink lips, surrounded by the dark blonde hairs. I reach up and give my hair I quick tussle, smiling at the person in the mirror.

I glance around the room to find my razor, wanting the one-day beard gone. I locate it on the sink on the right side of the tab and as I reach out to grab it, I accidentally hit it with my hand and knock it off the sink. I quickly bend over to pick the razor up, but somehow managing to knock my head on the sink, slip on the water that is all over the floor from my bath and falling down hitting my hipbone on the hard tile floor. All the while screaming out in surprise like a scared little girl.

I groan and rub the palm of my hand against the growing pain in my forehead, squeezing my eyes closed tightly, mentally cursing my luck. Seriously, how the hell did I manage to do so much damage to myself in such short time? And why does it feel like somebody's watching me? I turn my head slowly and glance over my shoulder, to see the faces of Stark, Banner and Barton staring down at me, clearly trying not to laugh their asses off. I huff at them and reach up, grabbing the sink to pull myself up, just to slip yet again and land with a smack back down on the floor, completely naked with rapidly reddening butt cheeks. I blush from embarrassment not only from having someone witness that, but also from the hyena laughs filling the room. Hell, I even made Bruce laugh out loud, which is an accomplishment in itself.

"yeah yeah, you've had your fun, now will someone please help me up before I start gnawing your ankles off?" I glare up at them, which only seems to make them laugh even harder. I smack the palm of my hand on my face in agony and I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down enough to get myself up from the floor, with my razor and no more accidents.

"Would you assholes either get undressed and join me down here or go out so I can get myself somewhat presentable?" I deadpanned at them, while slowly and carefully getting up. "And no Stark, that invitation was not meant for you. You only get the choice of leaving before or after I get my axe." I glare at Tony, daring him to come back with a snarky comment, giving me another reason to kill him. I think he understood that it wouldn't be preferable to do so if he cares about his health, because he simply left with a smirk so sly, it made me 100% sure he's gonna get the footage from the security cameras and blackmail me with it sometime in the future. F***ing fantastic. I sigh deeply and walk into my room and over to my cupboard, in the search of clean clothes with paint stains everywhere.

I found what I was looking for and started dressing myself when I remembered that there were others in the room still. I turn my upper body towards them after pulling my grey sweatpants, though they should probably be referred to as multicolored by now, because of all the paint on them, up to hang loosely around my hip bones. I raise a brow at them and give them a little naughty smirk with mischief shining out of my eyes. "You're running out of time to take me up upon my offer, you know?" I lick my bottom lip shortly and give them the elevator look, making them look all flustered and uncomfortable. I suddenly have to try very hard not to laugh and thereby ruin the moment of awkwardness I so love to bask myself in now that it isn't me it's directed against.

Bruce gave up rather quickly with a small cough and just left me here with Clint. Oh well, it was fun while it last. I wiggle my eyebrows at Clint and finally give in to laughter after a very panicky look crossed his face, his eyes seeking out the nearest exit. "Oh my f***ing god! You should have seen your face duuude!" I laugh, hugging my stomach, which is starting to hurt from laughing so hard.

Clint took his chance and darted for the door, shutting the door with a loud slam before I could even turn to see him run away. Shaking my head, I plop down on my bed and continues clothing myself. Chuckling for myself, I pull on my worn down converse and head out the door myself.


End file.
